


As You Were

by rosethrn



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-14 00:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19261867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosethrn/pseuds/rosethrn
Summary: He didn't blame Allie for hating him, but he couldn't help but wonder if there would have been a chance for them if he wasn't such an unbelievable asshole.





	As You Were

After meeting Allie - or not meeting, but really _seeing_ her for the first time, Harry begins to think he falls in love too easily.

It wasn't that he really loved her. He couldn't be sure of that anyways, not from just that distanced, painful way he was always aware of her. And that was the way it had been. Since Cassandra's death, since Allie suddenly became the leader of a town that wasn't ready to be led. He was too busy watching her stalking around, golden hair trailing behind her like some beautiful tragedy. It was probably for the best that he had stepped down from his de facto role as Cassandra's political rival. After everything, it didn't feel right to do that again with Allie. And he could hardly speak to her anyways, with that intense, empty blue glare that pierced him inside out. 

She was so like her sister, he'd decided, that it was a miracle he was so enamored by her. Cassandra was so orderly, regal, just. Remarkably intelligent in a way that Harry hated. They looked so similar, except for that untamed something about Allie that he felt like only he had seen the night of Fugitive. And now he couldn't even look her in the eyes without guilt filling him up, guilt that he tried to swallow with Campbell's pills or sleep off in that overcrowded house. He didn't blame Allie for hating him, but he couldn't help but wonder if there would have been a chance for them if he wasn't such an unbelievable asshole. 

And he hated how he watched her, moving on from him and whatever they were in a heartbeat. It wasn't like he had dropped everything for her either. Obviously there were still painful loose ends with Kelly that he couldn't manage to tie up, no matter how much they desperately wanted to. But Harry couldn't keep that night from seeping back into his drunken thoughts, or even his sober ones. That wild look in her eyes, her stupid bravery when she leaped out of his car and into another. Harry would forever wonder how he had managed to get a chance with Allie Pressman. 

It was another one of those nights that Harry had slipped into his drunken stupor, although still sober enough to convince Mickey to leave him home alone at dinner. He hated himself whenever he had to do that - deal with Mickey's sympathetic glances and well-meaning words. He used to terrify people like him, and it wasn't that he missed being feared - he missed being respected. Envied. That was long gone.

It was raining outside, leaving the streets clear and quiet. The silence hung over them like a warning. Harry didn't trust silence anymore, not with the way things were now. It filled him with anticipation and an urge to suck down another one of those pills that numbed him to the heart. He could almost see the lights from the cafeteria in the distance, glancing out the window of his old house. He couldn't hear the people, but he could imagine them: babbling about the upcoming election, or the famine, or what movie they hoped would be screened that week. There was no point to any of it, Harry thought, and yet his heart twisted at the thought of seeing everyone. Seeing Allie. As if things were normal.

The thought of the election brought a distant anxiety plunging through Harry, although muted by drink and drugs. He wasn't a leader. He could rally people, but he knew he wasn't the one that should be up there making choices. He fucked things up left and right, and even he knew that in the end he would only be worried about himself. Campbell's words somehow twisted his thoughts around, though, like some invisible force pinning him to the ground. Trapped. That was how he really felt. With Campbell, in his house, in the whole damn town.

He heard vaguely a knock at the front door. He waited as it repeated two, three times before attempting to maneuver himself off the couch and to the annoying disturbance. His legs felt heavy as he walked, and he blinked several times to shake himself out of it. He wanted to be very clear when he told Mickey to fuck off for the thirty-second time.

It wasn't Mickey when he opened the door. It was Allie. No Guard trailing behind her. No regal, Cassandra-like posture that made her look like some Amazonian princess ready to attack. Just Allie. Her cheeks were red. And she looked like she was about to cry, if she hadn't already.

Just the sight of her made a feeling of sobriety wash over Harry. He almost resented it, the way his feelings sharpened and suddenly the longing and guilt felt so painfully there, like they'd never left. "Allie?"

"I'm sorry, everyone is- I didn't know where to go." Her voice came out surprisingly steady, like she had trained the emotion out of it. She stumbled across the threshold and plopped down on the couch like she owned the place. She wasn't the first to act that way, but it was definitely the first time that Harry didn't mind it.

He followed her, took her hand when she grabbed for his. He was a little shocked. Allie wasn't quick to show affection, and definitely not towards him after the hell they'd been through. He tried to push away that feeling that rose in his chest when she did, focusing on her instead. "What happened?"

"I don't know why I'm here," she said abruptly, finally meeting his eyes. 

"It's okay. You said it yourself, I think we know each other pretty well."

"This is different, Harry," she rolled her eyes, but the brief glint of the Allie he remembered faded again. When she looked up again, her eyes were full of distress. 

"Just let me help you," he said, a little more quiet. A little more genuine. 

Her eyes did that thing again, where they softened for a moment.

"This election idea. It's stupid. And I thought I didn't care about being the one in charge, but... I really, really care. I don't want to see everything we've done to keep people safe just... disappear." Tears streamed down her cheeks and her grip on his hand tightened involuntarily.

Harry's heart sunk into his stomach. The election that he had already promised to run against her in. He couldn't tell her now, risk being more of an asshole when she had chosen him to come pour her heart out to in the middle of dinnertime. Maybe it was cause she knew he'd be home. Instead he just nodded like a dope, running his thumb along hers and wondering why everything he did had to end up hurting her somehow. Like the universe hated him. Maybe he deserved it.

He probably did.

"It won't, Allie. They'll pick you," he offered feebly. "You've done really well with a really shitty job for months. They trust you."

"Done well?" she scoffed. "You hate what I do."

"No," Harry said quickly, straightening up. "I don't, I just disagree about some stuff."

"Everything."

"Not everything." His eyes flitted between hers, trying desperately to read her. His ordinarily natural charm was failing him. With Allie he felt like it wouldn't work anyways. 

"Well," she murmured. "What do you agree with?" Harry was suddenly aware of their proximity. She had angled towards him, leaning in just barely but enough to make his head spin. He tried to think of a witty answer, distracted by her mouth, slightly agape with curiosity.

"You do what you think is right. To protect the people you love," Harry said quietly. "And you care about all of them. The whole fuckin' town."

Allie tilted her head slightly, in disbelief or amusement. He couldn't figure out which. Maybe it was both. "Harry Bingham. Are you hiding your good side?" She was almost unbearably close now. Harry wondered distantly if it was right. Doing this right now, with her like this. 

He summoned back enough of his wit to retort, "Every side is my good side." She laughed, just a little, and there was nothing better in the world.

"Don't be pathetic. I think maybe you actually have something nice to say."

"I do," he practically whispered, heart quickening in the deafening silence. 

Her forehead rested on his now. It was almost intimate; far from the adrenaline rush of their first time. Far from how it had ever been for Harry. He couldn't think of that many times he had stopped to really feel something for a girl.

"Allie," he said, like a warning. It surprised himself, because ordinarily he'd jump at this chance. But now he suddenly wanted to do things right, if he could still. 

She shook her head. "It's okay," she said, and then she kissed him.

He felt it immediately, like his skin was burning at her touch. He reached a hand into her hair almost instinctively, tugging her slightly, deepening the kiss. She trailed kisses down the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. If this was Allie searching for some kind of creature comfort, using him as some escape into the normal that used to be, he was okay with it. He pulled her onto him, her legs wrapping around his and hands grasping at the buttons of his shirt. 

If him and Allie really were as wrong for each other as he had convinced himself, then why didn't it feel like that?

And God, what was wrong with him? Somehow he felt like the situation he had been in time and time again had turned on him. Like he'd be the one left wishing for something more. Wondering if she could ever see him the way he saw her. 

Maybe if it was for Allie, Harry thought to himself. Maybe he could be different.


End file.
